Perfect Insanity
by Lambalot
Summary: Elliot's sanity is being pushed to its limits as his father blames him for everything he didn't do, including the death of his beloved mother that didn't survive giving birth to him. Looking for a way out of the only thing he knows, his emotions towards the world attracts the attention one particular being. (M rating because it does/will contain lots of blood and gore. AU.)
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: THIS IS MY FIRST STORY. REVIEWS AND FEEDBACK WOULD BE GREAT. I HOPE YOU ENJOY WHAT I CAN DISH OUT.**

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_"That's nice son, now go back to your room..."_

_"No, I don't know where your mother is. Just leave me be, ok?"_

_"Your mother's gone, and she's never coming back!"_

_"Your mother is dead! There's the truth! Out in the blue! Now leave me alone!"_

_"She's dead because of you. It's all your fault. It should have been you!"_

**Should**

**Of**

**Been**

**YOU**

Emerald eyes snapped opened, scanning the room quickly. A dream. It had just been a dream. No, a nightmare more like , Elliot sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Looking out his only bedroom window, he noticed that dark storm clouds loomed over the city, judging where to dump its water to ruin everyone's day. He grunted as he noticed that it had decided to ruin his day. At first, it was only a few small drops here and there. Over the course of sixty seconds however, those clouds decided it needed to take a massive piss and was now doing so right outside his window.

"Fitting weather for a fitting day." Elliot thought out loud. He looked over to the alarm clock that sat on his bedside table. 9:03am. As much as he didn't want to, he decided that he should get his ass out of bed. Cursing as he threw the covers off of him and was met with the horrible cold instead of the warmth of his bed. Almost bolting across his room, he hardly had enough time to stop himself in front of his dresser. With an impressive thud that would make all snakes in a five-mile radius scatter as well as a loud 'Fuck!' that would make an old deaf person hear it, and most likely die from shock, Elliot opened the draw and pulled out a pair of socks. Quickly slipping then on as he tried to open the next draw, he managed to snatch up the first pair of pants he saw. Looking around for his trusted blue shirt, he spotted it just on the end of his bed. However, somewhere along this simple task of just walking along to pick up his shirt that was two meters away, he managed to fuck it up and fall face first on the floor. Great, now all those snakes will think that there's a fucken earthquake and most likely roll over and die.

"God fucken damn it!" Elliot grunted, holding his now bleeding nose. Having a quick check, it didn't feel like anything was broken. Just the pain of the fall and Satan's waterfall coming out of his nose. Sitting up, he snatched the shirt from the end of the bed with a low growl. Picking himself off of the ground, he walked into the bathroom next door. Managing to get to his destination without falling ass over this time. Quickly finding tissues and wiping the blood off his face, he looked at his reflection. He looked like utter shit. Nose still bleeding, sleep still present on his face and his long, dark caramel hair was looking more like a fucken bird's nest than actual hair. Huffing, Elliot went to work on what he could do to fix up his appearance.

After a few minutes, he looked back in the mirror for the end result. The nose had stopped bleeding, his hair was now tied up in a rough pony tail after brushing it and he didn't look as tired. It was an improvement. Huffing in victory, he walked out of the bathroom and down the hallway towards the kitchen. He could smell toast and bacon being cooked, hear milk or juice being poured into a glass and the bacon crack. His mouth watered at the overload of senses of the cooking. There was nothing for him though. Nothing that is made by his father was ever shared. Sighing, he peered around the corner to locate his father. He had his back towards Elliot and was standing over by the oven. A wooden spoon in one hand and the handle to the pan in the other. He could see everything now. The bacon in the pan, the toast being cooked in the toaster, the bottle of juice on the table sitting next to a glass, plate and pepper. His gaze snapped away from the feast that was being prepared in the kitchen as his father started to turn. After a few footsteps as well as a wooden spoon being pressed against the pan, Elliot slowly and carefully peered around the corner again. His father was by the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs. After watching his dad crack a few eggs into the still hot pan, Elliot looked back to the table. The bacon was now sitting on the plate with a few pieces of buttered toast. Licking his lips, he retreated back behind the wall. Hungry for a decent breakfast, he quickly ran the plan through his head again.

After a few seconds of debating whether he should put the plan in action or not, his hunger had been the winner of the debate. Slowly looking around the corner again, he took silent, slow steps. Noticing that his father wouldn't be moving for sometime, he continued to close the gap between him and the bacon and toast. So close, he was so close. Slowly reaching out for the plate, his eyes flicking to his father and back to his prize, he only had a chance to grab the plate with one hand as his father suddenly turned around.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my breakfast?!" His father screamed.

Panic over took Elliot as he snatched the plate and started bolting to his room. His father's booming footsteps in his ears only made him panic more. Kicking open the door, he ran across his room towards his window. His father wasn't far behind him, almost snapping at his heels even. sliding the window up in a hurry, Elliot grabbed what he could from the plate and shoved it into his mouth. Grasping it everything with his teeth, he threw the plate back at his father as a distraction. sliding out of the window and its somewhat tight frame, he crouched on the wooden window sill and gave one last look at his father. Fury and rage had consumed him and turned him into a wild beast. Elliot barely had enough time to jump for the pipes that ran along the building's side. He latched onto the pipes with his hands, swinging back and forth a few times before he stopped. Looking over to his father that was suck in the apartment, he gave a devilish smile of victory. Pulling off his socks with one hand and shoving them in his pocket, he shoved some loose bacon strips back into his mouth. Looking up and locating the pipes with the support beam around them to hold them into place, he started to climb. He smiled to himself when he heard his father's screams of 'how he's going to get a beating of a life time when he gets back'. After he heard his raging father slam his bedroom window close, causing a few panels to shatter, he climbed the last few pipes and pulled himself up onto the roof.

After getting in a comfortable sitting position with his legs dangling over the roof's edge, he dropped a piece of toast and a few bacon pieces into his readied hands. He laughed quietly to himself and he looked at his prize. How long had it been since he had some bacon? Months? Years? He missed its taste so much. Not wasting anymore time, he shoved a piece into his mouth. Taking his time to eat each piece, he noticed that it had stopped raining. In fact, everything was dry. Confused, he looked around for any signs that this was all just a dream. Sure, it had pissed down, but surely it won't have stopped THAT quickly? Even the sun had decided to pull its finger out of its ass and show its face. Shrugging it off, he took a bite out of the toast. Looking around at the city with the amount of tall buildings, he grew tired of the view and looked down towards the street. A few cars and people passed by here and there, more worried about their daily lives than everything around them. He huffed in annoyance. He hated cities. He hated not being able to have fun. He hated people. He hated being stuck here, the one place he hated for everything that it stood for.

Sighing, he threw the last bite of toast in his mouth. Continuing to look around at all the people who scurried on by. Finding almost nothing interesting, he was about to look back up at the city when a small flash of blue caught his eyes. Looking back down, he spotted it again. Elliot froze when he realised that the eye-catching blue was coming from a pair of eyes. Unnaturally deep yet bright eyes. Eyes that were watching _him._ Getting a closer look, he noticed that the eyes belonged to a tall, slightly tan looking man. His iconic Australian hat had a row of what looked to be like teeth, the same kind of teeth that was also around his neck on a home-made necklace. He wore a comfortable looking coat with red going down along the arms, to which the sleeves were pulled up passed his elbow slightly. Underneath he wore a dark grey shirt, the same colour as his hat and baggy looking pants with two large pockets on each side. A watch and leather glove was worn on his left hand to finish off the look. Turning his attention back towards the man's face, Elliot realised that he was also wearing sunglasses. He felt somewhat uneasy having such unnatural eyes watching him, yet had a somewhat _desire_ to find out why. Without warning, the man smiled almost devilishly at Elliot. Feeling even more uneasy, he was somewhat thankful yet somewhat annoyed when a large bus blocked the view between the two. Elliot froze when the bus passed, yet the man was nowhere to be seen. Somewhat panicking, he scanned every passing person to find the stranger. Nothing however, they all just looked like normal people. Had he been dreaming? Did his father put some of his drugs into his food? He wouldn't be stealing any more any time soon, that's for sure.

After a few hours sitting on top of the roof, enjoying the warmth from the sun, Elliot thought it was time to actually do something. Carefully climbing back down along the pipes, he cursed when he came to his floor, only to find glass everywhere on the window sill. Rolling his eyes, he started to climb back up towards the roof. Pulling himself up, he walked towards the emergency staircase. Smiling to himself, he thought that a bit of fun should at least be adding to walking down boring old stairs. Closing the door behind him, he looked at the distance he had to gain speed and the amount of wall he had. Pushing himself off the door, he only had a short distance till he hit the first step. It was enough however as he launched himself from the step and turned himself in mid-air. He hit the wall feet first, almost at the end of the set of stairs. Using all his strength that his legs could muster, he pushed himself off the wall. He landed himself on the railing, almost tip toe. Laughing to himself, he launched himself again off of the railing down towards the next set of stairs. Turning once again in mid-air, his feet hitting the wall first. Pushing off of the wall again, closer towards the rail. Grabbing it mid-flight, he suddenly turned onto his side and shifted his weight more towards his left hand that was grasping the rail. His direction changed left and Elliot quickly grasped the rail with his right hand. He shifted his weight again to make it go up. His legs were high in the air as the last of the momentum disappeared. Letting gravity do the work, he let his legs fall before quickly tucking them in. His feet hit the rail with a soft clang as he crouched on top of the metal pole. Smiling and laughing to himself, he slid off the rail and walked down the remaining flight of stairs.

Taking a deep breath, Elliot opened the door as carefully as he could. He could hear the TV playing a program with a few grumbles from his father. After a few creaks and groans from the door, he was in. The matter now was closing it, which would take just as long as opening it. With a few more groans and flickering of vision towards the lounge room then back to the door, he heard the last click of it closing. It was a small success. Carefully crossing the small walkway that connected the front door to the rest of the house, Elliot managed to get pass that obstacle without letting his father know of his presence. Quickly slipping into the hallway, he quietly raced to his room. Upon reaching and closing his bedroom door, he cursed under his breath at all the shattered glass that was on the floor. Ignoring it for now, Elliot walked over to his dresser. Pulling out some bandage for his hands and his dark brown leather gloves. He quickly wrapped his hands in the soft cloth before sliding the leather over the top. Not bothering to close the draw, he walked over to grab his black sneakers. Pulling out his socks from his pocket, he quickly put on his shoes and socks. Roughly tying a knot with the laces, he looked at whether he should just put up with the glass and climb his way to freedom, or risk going through the front door. Grabbing his trusted backpack and slinging it over on one of his shoulders, he decided that he would rather put up with glass than risk trying to sneak pass his father again. Carefully opening the window, he managed to slip through without any cuts. Brushing some of the glass that was sitting on top of the window sill to the general public below, Elliot pin pointed where he was roughly going to land on the pipes. After double checking that there wasn't any glass underneath him, he jumped for the pipes and caught himself just like earlier this morning. He climbed down the pipes, getting a few faces from the public as he dropped to the ground.

After quite some walking, Elliot thought he might as well go get something to eat in the middle of town. They usually had something good there and it was always worth the price. The only downside was that he had to catch a train to get there. Elliot really didn't mind, since the further way from his father he was the happier he became. After a few minutes he arrived at the station. Quickly buying his ticket, it seemed that he was in luck when the train had actually managed to arrive on time for once. The train had seen better days, but it was still in working condition, although the same couldn't really be said to the interior. Sitting down in the Farthest corner, completely away from everyone, Elliot could finally be alone with his thoughts. He didn't know how long they had sat there, it felt like an eternity before the train moaned and started to pull away from the station. As the first few rocks of the train powering to life started, a screaming pierced Elliot's mind, snapping him from his thoughts. Quickly looking at the faces in the crowd of the train for the source, his face only scrunched up in disgust. A screaming child. Why oh why did he have to be on a train with a child that is sobbing and screaming, begging for attention from everyone around them. The child continued to scream loudly as it pulled at its mother's shirt, wanting to be the centre of attention instead of the baby she was holding. Wait...a BABY? Looking again, the mother of the demon spawn was indeed holding a new-born. Growling lowly and rolling his eyes, the last thing Elliot needed was having TWO screaming kids.

The trip was only short, but it felt like Elliot's ears were about to start bleeding. Thankfully only the toddler was the one doing the screaming and not a mix tape featuring two month old...I don't know, Jimmy? Yeah, Jimmy will do. He never really hated kids that much, he just has a _bitterness_ towards the screaming ones. Maybe he even had a _spite_ towards them. Shutting out the thought, Elliot walked with a small crowd of people who happened to be going the same way. The group was mostly women and it didn't take a moron to know that they were all friends. Their roars of laughter and judging other people by what they looked like annoyed him greatly. He tried to ignore them the best he could, but they talked so fucken loud and walked so god damn slow, that he almost had no choice but to put up with them.

Finally reaching his destination, Elliot stopped and looked around the food court for his options. It all seemed good to him, but making a choice was always the hardest bit. After a few minutes, he decided to go with a shop that sold the basic fast foods. He regretted picking the place, but he had a craving to just sit down and eat a good burger. After placing his order, he quickly tried to find his wallet in what felt like a black hole of a bag. A few people gave a grunt or a remark at his slowness of finding his wallet, but he didn't care. They could all jump off a cliff and he still won't care as to why they did it. After pulling out a few notes, he almost shoved it into the awaiting cashier, wanting to make the trade of money for food faster. A table. That was his last challenge. Finding a table. Looking in the mass crowd of people sitting and chatting, it really made you think just how the world could sustain this much life. Shaking his head slightly, Elliot started to weave in and out of people, trying to find a place to sit. After god knows how long, he did manage to find quite a nice spot. The roar of mass people talking and eating was blocked out from the escalator that divided him from the rest of the public.

Settling in to his chair with everything sprawled out in front of him, his hunger seemed to return worse than when he was at the store. Looking down at the wallet that was also on the table, Elliot picked it up and looked inside. He only had twenty-three dollars left. He cursed lightly to himself as he realised that he wouldn't be getting any more until his dad decided he couldn't get off his fat ass any more to pick up his drugs by himself. Which hopefully would be soon. He always tried to make money out of it. One day he would most likely be caught, then his father will realise that he had been ripped off for years. Get the money, buy the drugs, take just a bit so he would notice and try to sell it for double than what its real value is. It was the only reason he actually had money in his back pocket. Pushing the thought out of his head, he slipped the wallet into his bag and looked down at his food again. It had gone slightly cold, but it wasn't enough to make him not want to eat it. Hell, he'd most likely eat it anyway if it was cold.

Picking up the burger and trying to make it stay in one piece in his hands, he was just about to take a bite when a scream pierced any thought that was in his mind. Which was food, but no longer the case. The screaming got louder and louder until it felt like it was right beside him. Looking around for the location of the screaming hell-bent monster, it was already too late to run. His burger fell apart in his hands as he realised the screaming was coming from directly behind him. Looking over his shoulder he noticed that it was the SAME two children that were on the train. The only difference was that the baby had decided to join in, making one hell of a bad song. Placing what remained of his burger onto the wrapper it came in, he turned around and faced the two little demon spawns and their mother. Looking at the little toddler, he realised that it was a girl, while the two month infant was a boy. Taking a quick glance at their mother, who wasn't even paying attention to the two screaming brats, and then back to the toddler, he silently asked her to come closer. Slowly creeping forward ever so slightly so that he wouldn't scare her off, he whispered. "Hey, why are you crying?"

"Because mummy won't buy me a toy I wanted." She sobbed, roughly wiping some tears away from her eyes.

"Is that so?" Elliot hummed.

"Yes." The little girl replied. "She always gets me everything I want, but she didn't this time."

'I knew it.' Elliot thought to himself. "So why didn't she this time, hmm?" He chimed, smiling softly at her.

"Because she said I have too many." The girl said, sniffing after she finished talking.

"And how many do you have?" Elliot replied, spinning around quickly to grab his drink. This was most likely the second most interesting thing that had happened to him today.

"A lot!" The girl said, throwing her arms into the air to try to prove her point. "But they're old and I don't want them any more."

Taking a sip of his drink, Elliot just nodded.

"Honey, get away from him!" The little girl's mother snapped.

Taking a quick glance at the mother, he hardly had enough time to react before his drink was slapped out of his hand by the little girl's tantrum.

"No!" The little girl shouted, tears starting to form in her eyes again.

Elliot watched as the little girl's mother pulled her away from him, walking off screaming and crying. His somewhat evil plan had been ruined. "Consider yourself lucky little girl." Mumbling a low growl, he looked down to his spilled drink. If there was a good way to waste two bucks, there it was right there. Grunting, he turned back to what hadn't already been ruined. Or what was left of it by looking at the mix of what use to be a burger in the wrapper. Trying his best to slap it back together, he looked around for any more screaming kids that want to punch his food right out of his hands. Seeing that the coast was clear, he took a bite and was met with somewhat warm yet delicious food.

After spending a few hours pointlessly walking around the city, he decided that going home was looking pretty good right now. He had had more than enough of dealing with large crowds, honking of car horns and pointless window shopping. Slowly making his way back to the train station, he watched as the sky started to darken and the people slowly disappear off the streets. There was a handful of people here and there, mostly already drunk young adults, but a few were most likely late to be home. Elliot huffed to himself. Home. A place where you were meant to feel safe. Not his apartment though. He felt safer living on the streets than having to walk back to that hell hole. His bed was mostly the only reason why he ever went back.

Paying for his ticket, he tapped his foot waiting for the first train that was heading the way he needed to go. Watching the small crowd of people walk down the steps and to their required platforms, Elliot couldn't help but have the feeling of being somewhat watched. Slowly looking around the crowd of people at each platform, no one seemed to be looking his way. He ignored the feeling as the train started to pull into the station. Getting into a section of the train that no one else seemed to be entering, he sat down as far away from the door as he could. Tapping his foot again, he looked around the train carriage he was in. Nothing. Sighing, he looked out the window for a solid minute or two. Nothing to really look at either. He felt the train launch forward slightly as it powered to life. Sighing again, he turned around and almost jumped out of his seat and most likely out the train roof when he saw _him_ sitting right across from Elliot. Halfway down his seat and grabbing onto a nearby pole for dear life, he watched the stranger very closely. Daring not to move, his heart started to pound, sweat formed on his forehead and his knuckles were turning white.

"Who are you?" Elliot demanded, slightly shaking. He didn't get a reply from the stranger. "Why are you following me?" Still nothing. Still somewhat shaking, Elliot just decided to watch _him_. A good minute passed before the silence became too much. "Friend or foe?" He asked quietly. Slowly, the stranger lifted his head, unnatural deep blue meeting emerald-green.

"That's for you to decide." Was all the stranger said, in a thick Australian accent.

Deadly still, eyes still locked, the darkness of a tunnel coated the train carriage in black. By the time some light had managed to find its way through the darkness, Elliot noticed that _he_ was gone. panicking, he looked all around for the pair of blue eyes, yet no blue was to be found. Trying to calm his heart, Elliot thought about what the stranger had said. That's for you to decide? What did that mean?

Stumbling out of the train, Elliot tried to calm himself. His heart was racing so fast that he felt like he had run for miles. Once he was clear of the people from the station, he took one last look around him, watching for those blue eyes. Spotting nothing, yet still feeling uneasy, sprinting home sounded like the best idea. Running as fast as his legs would allow him, he looked over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure that he wasn't being followed. Making it to his apartment building, he quickly jumped from the pipes. Grabbing onto one of the support beams, he pulled himself up and started to climb as fast as he could up the pipes. Once reaching his floor, he spotted his window sill and wasted no time jumping for it. He managed to land feet first on the sill. Quickly reopening the window, or what was left of it, he slid inside and shut it again. Looking around outside for _him_, he tried to calm his pounding heart.

"There you are you little shit."

Elliot's eyes widened in fear as the light switch to his room flicked on, casting a shadow over his father.

"Think your old man would just forget the fact that you stole half my fucken breakfast?" He boomed.

Fear over took him, frozen in place by the seething ball of anger that was his father. Helpless to the wrath that was to come. "I-I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you, promise!"

"I don't want your promises." He angrily replied. "I want you to scream in pain for what you did."

"P-please!" Hot tears poured down Elliot's face. Dropping to his hands and knees, begging for mercy.

It was all in vain however, the punch that was beaten across his face was of nothing but pure rage. Another blow was dealt when he tried to face his father once more. Gasping for breath and holding his now bleeding nose, he felt a powerful kick to his stomach. Burning pain shot up through his ribs, making it hard to breath. Coughing up a good handful of blood, he was suddenly yanked up by his hair. He yelped in surprise when he was forced onto his knees and punched over and over at least seven times. His vision was blurred, his breath was ragged and short. Trying to regain normal breathing, his eyes snapped open in shock when he heard the crack of leather on leather.

"P-please...No..." Elliot sobbed. Begging for anything but the pure torture of the leather belt. He dropped to his hands and knees again, coughing and spitting blood. With all his might, he tried to look up to his father, to ask for mercy. He only saw pure and utter rage however when he looked up towards him. More tears flowed down his cheek as he knew begging for mercy was in vain. Tensing his back, he waited for the pain and torture. He shouted in pain as the first blow struck him, tearing a hole in his t-shirt. One after the other, the strikes went back and forth along his now heavily bleeding back. The pain was becoming too much, his vision was darkening. His father knew this too. His attacks ceased and he left the room with a blooded belt in hand. Shaking and sobbing, he tried to move, tried to escape, but he couldn't. The pain was far too much for him to handle. Helpless as his father returned, an object in his hand. Elliot tried to see what it was, but most of it was covered up by the white knuckled hands of his father.

"You did this." He said. "You killed her. She's dead because of you. It's all your fault. It should have been you, not her." Looking at the bottle then back towards Elliot. "IT SHOULD OF BEEN YOU!" He shouted, pouring a decent amount of the bottles contents out.

Pure hot, white pain shot up and down along Elliot's wounds on his back as he realised what his father had done. Salt. He had poured salt onto his wounds to wake him up and cause him even more pain. He screamed even more as the belt lashings continued from where they stopped. For every new hit, salt managed to find its way in one way or another. Either it was from the actual bottle, or particles that were already on his back. It felt like an eternity before the lashes stopped. The heavy breathing of his father, who was towering behind him, a blood drenched belt in hand and the fury of a beast was all to be felt, heard and seen in the room.

"It should have been you..." His father growled, walking towards the door. He gave one last look at Elliot before slamming the door.

Battered, bleeding and bruised, the cold from the night blew over the weeping youngster. Hot white pain was all he felt. Up and down his body, it spread like wildfire. He still felt his nose and back bleeding, making a small puddle underneath him. His shirt was almost completely torn, giving him little protection from the cold that continued to sweep its way over his body. He tried to move, tried to do something to stop the bleeding, but it only caused him a huge amount of pain. Sitting in the cold, his hope slowly leaving him, he closed his eyes and waited for either death or a painful continuation of his life.

Footsteps? Where those footsteps? It grew louder, getting closer towards him. Fearing that it was his father who had come to finish the job, Elliot screw his eyes shut as much as he could, tensing up his body for any attacks.

"Bah. Look at what that ungrateful fool has done to you. Poor thing." A voice softly whispered.

Elliot's emerald eyes snapped open. It was _him_.

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**Sorry if this chapter was a little bit boring. I promise to try and dish out some better and more 'shit really hits the fan' type chapters soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**SORRY THAT THIS CHAPTER TOOK FOREVER, I'VE BEEN BUSY WITH WORK AND WHAT NOT. ANYWAY, ENJOY!**

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Shivering from the cold, Elliot tried to turn to look up at the figure behind him. The pain running along his back stopped him however, forcing him to look at nothing but what was in front of him.

"Such a life that doesn't deserve living." The stranger said, bending down towards the youngster to inspect the damage.

Elliot didn't speak, nor did he dare to even move. He closed his eyes in hopes that this was just another nightmare. He knew that this wasn't a dream though, so he gave up trying to fool himself into thinking that it was.

"How long have you had to put up with his rampage now? Twenty or so years? How much more pain are you willing to go through, hmm?" He continued, picking some loose threads from Elliot's shirt that had found their way into his bleeding back.

Finally finding his voice, Elliot tried his best to reply to the questions that he had been asked. "I don't ever take these beatings willingly..." He shuttered, curling tighter into a ball to try to block out the cold.

"So why haven't you fought back?" The stranger replied, continuing his inspection.

Elliot said nothing. He could only hug himself tighter as his voice box failed him. He yelped in pain and surprise as he was carefully picked up off the floor. Being held under his legs and shoulder blades, he could now look up clearly at the stranger holding him. It didn't last long however, as he was set down onto his bed. As he sat looking down at his hands and lap, he felt his shirt cause him more discomfort then it was doing any good. The loose scraps that would brush itself along his back, which would get slightly stuck, caused him slightly more pain as well as making the wounds itch. Grunting in annoyance, he carefully tried to lift the bottom of his shirt up along his body. Lightly yelping as some of the patches of his shirt had to be peeled off his bloody wounds, he at last managed to pull the ragged cloth up over his head and off his body. Throwing it as far as his arms could allow him, he turned his attention in front of him. He froze as he realised that _he_ had watched him the whole time.

The stranger only huffed as the youngster finished his task, yet received no reply to his question. "Sometimes, those who are close to you are the ones with the most corrupted soul. They seek to fix something that couldn't be stopped. They destroy everything and everyone around them to try and redeem themselves from the darkness, only they slip deeper into the abyss they so desperately want to escape."

Elliot looked up at the stranger, thinking over what _he_ had just said. "Who are you? Why are you following me?" Elliot asked quietly.

"Someone who wants to be your friend." The stranger replied.

"But that still doesn't cover why you are following me." Elliot snapped.

The stranger drew back slightly at the reply. _He_ sighed before continuing on. "I know how much you want to be free of the curse that is pressing down on your shoulders. All I'm offering is that one chance you want so badly."

Elliot's eyes grew wide. "Y-you want to help me?" He shuttered.

"Yes."

"But why?" He quickly replied.

"Look around you, tell me what you see." The stranger said.

Elliot looked around his room quickly. "A room." He said, confused.

"I meant the world. Tell me how you see the world around you." The stranger replied.

Thinking hard, Elliot tried to point everything good and bad about the world. He just looked back up at the stranger, still confused.

The stranger huffed, before turning his attention to the youngster. "Lets start out a little more easy, hmm? Tell me what you like about the world first."

Thinking again, Elliot looked out his window. He tried, good lord did he try to think of as many things as he could that he liked. "Well, there isn't all that much I suppose. I mean, I do like to listen to the birds most times when I'm bored...So does that kinda just count as nature in general?" Elliot said, looking back towards the stranger sitting next to him.

"It can count, yes." The stranger nodded. "Anything else?"

Looking back out the window, Elliot sat for a few minutes before turning his attention back to the stranger and shaking his head.

"Alright, now tell me everything you don't like."

"People." Elliot said, right off the bat.

"Why's that?" The stranger hummed.

Elliot looked down at his lap. "I think that we're just too blind to see that not only are we destroying ourselves, but everything around us, you know?" Looking out his window, Elliot took a deep breath before continuing on. "To save ourselves, we have to save the planet." He looked back towards the stranger, waiting for a reply.

Nodding, the stranger looked towards Elliot. "Sometimes however, saving something will require the darkest of tasks."

"What's your point?" Elliot asked, confused yet again.

"Speech has done nothing but only aware your kind of the destruction that lies ahead if they continue along the path that they currently walk upon. Action must be done to stop that destruction. A grim task lies ahead in the near future that your kind must endure, Elliot." The stranger replied.

Elliot sat looking into those bright blue eyes, not knowing how to feel. Frowning, he managed to find his voice. "Who. Are. You." Elliot asked slowly, demanding answers.

The stranger laughed before looking back down at the youngster. "If you really want to know so bad, Lawrence is the name." He said, holding his hand out.

Elliot looked at Lawrence's hand questionably. Slowly taking the hand in his, he shook lightly before quickly pulling it away once the hand shake was over. He yelped as hot, white pain shot up and down his body.

"I suppose I better fix you up before anything else." Lawrence mumbled. "Alright Elliot, I want you to close your eyes, this is going to sting a little."

Doing as he was told, Elliot closed his eyes and waited. He could hear Lawrence take a deep breath, but nothing else after that. Slowly however, he started to feel a slight warmness cover his body. Whatever it was, it didn't have a smell of any sort, although Lawrence wasn't kidding when he said it was going to sting. A little would be a huge under statement for the stinging he felt in his back, face and chest. Tears threatened to dribble down his cheeks as he sat waiting for the pain to stop. His eyes snapped open as he heard a somewhat muffled bone snapping type noise. The pain that came along with the noise made its appearance in a matter of seconds. Knuckles white from gripping his bed sheets and gasping for air, he looked around, noticing that he was surrounded in..._mist_? Taking a closer look, he also noticed that it seemed to be channeling in directions where he was most injured. He watched as the slim currents found their way into his body. After the last wisp of the mist disappeared, Elliot looked back at Lawrence.

"How do you feel?" Lawrence asked, lightly laughing.

Confused at first, Elliot sat thinking of the question he was just asked. After a few seconds however, he noticed that he didn't feel any pain. Nothing at all. In fact, he felt better than he had felt in ages! surprised, he bolted to the bathroom, ignoring the amount of noise he made. Looking in the mirror, Elliot became confused, amazed and somewhat horrified all at once. No cuts, bruises or broken bones of any kind to be seen or felt. Only the mostly dried blood on his body was all the evidence left of his father's beatings. Hearing footsteps stop at the bathroom door, he turned to find Lawrence leaning on the door frame, smiling widely.

"What did you do?" Elliot asked, looking back at the mirror.

"Just a simple fix up." Lawrence replied, walking over towards the mirror himself.

"You...you healed me?" Elliot said, looking at the reflection of the figure behind him. "How?" Turning to face Lawrence, who was still looking at the mirror.

"Why ruin the surprise?" Lawrence replied, turning his attention towards back to Elliot.

"Oh come on man, you're gonna make me wait?" Elliot huffed.

Lawrence laughed at the youngsters slight annoyance. "A life with no surprises, is a life not worth living." He replied.

Still slightly annoyed, Elliot sighed and turned his attention back to the mirror. He grunted as he tried to push some of his hair out of his face, but to no avail.

"I suppose I better head off. If I stick around here any longer, the others will give me a mouthful." Lawrence said, looking down at his watch to check the time.

"Others?" Elliot repeated. "What others?"

"Due time, mate. Due time." Was all Lawrence said, turning around to take his leave.

In a slight panic of being left alone again, Elliot grabbed Lawrence's arm and did his best to make Lawrence face him. "When will I see you again?" He said.

"When you need me most." Lawrence replied, smiling slightly.

Letting his grip fall, Elliot watched as Lawrence walked out the door, turning in the direction of his bedroom. He shook his head slightly and looked back towards the mirror. Looking at where the Australian had once stood, he rushed out of the bathroom to catch up to him. "Wait, Lawrence I got something to-" Elliot stopped himself as he noticed the hallway was empty. Walking into his bedroom, he also noticed that it was empty of life. Taking one last look in the hallway, he sighed and entered his room, shutting the door behind him. Flopping down onto his bed, he looked out of his window. He turned his attention towards the broken panels. He became confused however as the panels seems to be..._intacted_? Getting up from his bed, Elliot walked over for a closer look. Tapping lightly on the glass, he stood up straight and looked at it questionably. After a bit of thinking, he came to the conclusion that it must have been the work of Lawrence. Smiling slightly, he walked over to his bed and flopped down onto it again. He would have to thank Lawrence for that...and healing him of course. His mind was riddled with questions about how and why these events were happening to him. Grunting in annoyance, Elliot decided to push it out of his mind and get some sleep. After a few struggles with sorting the sheets out, he laid down into his bed. Trying to get as comfortable as his bed would allow him, he still continued to think of the events of today. Eventually he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Opening his eyes and instantly regretting it, Elliot rolled over to try and block out the sun that was pouring through his window. He mumbled a curse as his efforts were in vain. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pulled the covers off his body. Cold. Good lord was it cold. Just another normal day in his life. Yawning as he jumped out of his bed, he thought about what he could do with this day. Deciding to plan his day after breakfast, he slipped into the warmest clothes he could get his hands on. Walking into the bathroom, the toilet was his first pit stop before looking at the mess that was him. Grunting in annoyance as his hair looked like a total fucken mess, like normal, as he had forgotten to take out his hair band last night. The result was a god damn search and rescue of the lost hair band before he could even think about trying to fix up the plane crash on top of his head.

After spending a few minutes in the bathroom cleaning himself up, food was now the only thing Elliot could think of. Everything else could just roll over and die for all he cared. Grabbing a bowl, the milk and cereal, or at least what was left of it, and throwing it all together, Elliot sat down on the couch and flipped on the TV. Shit, shit and shit was all that seemed to be on. Giving up on trying to find something worth watching, Elliot focused on his breakfast. He only managed to get in a few good mouthfuls before he noticed that the apartment seemed rather quite. Flipping the TV on mute, Elliot listened carefully for any signs of life. After at least a good minute of listening, there was still nothing to be heard. Except for the slow crunching of his cereal in his mouth and the daily bullshit that was happening outside. Smiling to himself, Elliot unmuted the TV and watched whatever seemed to be happening while shoving spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

Pulling his shoes on, Elliot raced out the front door to his apartment and down the flights of stairs. Not wanting to waste any time, he ran through the crowd, nudging a few slow walkers and getting some threats thrown his way. He only turned back and gave them a cocky smile before racing off to his destination. His heart pounded in his ears and fresh air raced into his lungs. He loved running. It made him feel alive, made him feel like no one in the world could catch him. He often took a run every once in a while so he could still out run his father when he finally pushed him over the edge. He planned to do that one day when he was leaving for good. Just run away from him, from this city and all the problems that were here. His mind then ran over Lawrence's offer. His mind was still riddled with questions that he so desperately wanted to be answered. Pushing the thoughts out again, he focused again at the task at hand. Which was running through annoying crowds of people. Just how many fucken people wanted to be in this part of the city?

At last, he arrived at where he wanted to be. Stopping to take a breather so he didn't look like an idiot when he walked into the store, Elliot watched as people went about their daily lives. '_A grim task lies ahead in the near future that your kind must endure, Elliot._' The words repeated themselves in Elliot's mind. He was so confused. A grim task? What task? What does humanity have to endure? When will this happen? Looking up at the crowds of people, Elliot tried his hardest to figure out the puzzle that was racing through his mind. Damn Lawrence all to hell for speaking in riddles. Just can't get right to the point and speak English, could he? Deciding to leave the thought for later, he walking into the store and up to the front desk.

"How can I help you?" The man asked flatly, looking up from his book.

"I was wondering if you had the latest issue of-"

"Lane three, walk down towards the door till you hit about half way on your right." The man replied, inturpting Elliot.

Looking at the lane then back at the man, he gave a nod of thanks before continuing where he was told to find the item he wanted. Walking down the lane, he looked at all the magazines lying comfortable on their shelves. Elliot only managed to grab a glimpse of the item he was looking for out of the corner of his eye. Grabbing it quickly, he flipped the magazine open and looked at the contents. He smiled to himself and flipped the magazine close, dropping his shoulder so that his backpack could slide off. Catching it in one hand, he pulled it around to his front and unzipped it. He walked towards the front counter again as he tried to find his wallet. "God damn it. Every fucken time I go to look for something in this bag, it turns into a god damn black hole." Elliot whispered to himself. Finally grabbing a hold of the object that was his wallet, he pulled it out without a second thought.

"That'll be ten dollars." The man at the counter said, not bothering to look up from his book.

Elliot pulled out a bill and a few coins until he had the right amount. Dropping it on the counter, he waited for the man to count the money.

"Have a nice day." The man said flatly, returning to his book.

"And uh, you too." Elliot replied, shoving the magazine in his backpack. Zipping it up quickly, he walked out of the store and back out into the crowd of people. Looking around for a few seconds, Elliot took a deep breath before starting his jog home.

Running through a city for what seemed like miles? No problems. Dodging a lot of people by zig zagging and jumping on top of things? Easy. Climbing up a pipe to reach the roof with nothing but his hands and feet? Chew them up and spit them out. Running up stairs? What are you, crazy? Almost dying as Elliot reached the front door to his apartment, he looked back down at the flights of stairs he had just ran up. Dear god how he _hated_ running up stairs. He still did it however, anything to make him stronger and faster so he could get away from his father. Pulling off his backpack once again, he unzipped it and scrambled around inside to find his keys. Managing to pull them out without too much trouble, he mumbled a few curses as he tried to put the key into the lock. Finally opening the door, Elliot walked right towards the kitchen, backpack being dragged across the floor. Quickly grabbing the nearest glass, he drank until he was almost sick. Placing the glass back to where he had found it, he walked towards his room.

Flopping down onto the bed, Elliot decided to rest for a minute or two. His heart was still pounding and his breathes were still panted. Wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead, Elliot sat up and pulled his backpack onto his lap. Pushing a few strands of loose hair out of his face, he unzipped the pack and dug around inside until he felt the magazine. Pulling it out with haste, he moved to backpack off to his side and looked at the item in his hands. It was a bit curled and scrunched from sitting in his pack while he was running, although it still looked brand new. Flipping it open, he looked at each page carefully.

After a good half an hour of looking through the magazine's contents, Elliot jumped off his bed and walked towards his dresser. Bending down and grasping the handle on the lowest draw, he looked around carefully before pulling the draw open. Elliot looked down at the two objects that were stashed away within the draw, a smile plastering itself on his face. Looking around again, he paused and listened to any signs of life that were in the apartment. Hearing almost nothing except the muffled talking of other people who were living in the apartment block, Elliot pulled out the two objects. Walking back towards his bed, he sat down the items before sitting on the bed himself. Getting as comfortable as he could, Elliot grabbed the magazine and flipped through it until he found the page he wanted. Sitting it down in front of him, he grabbed the two objects and pulled them close to him.

After looking at the magazine's page for another minute, he picked up the two items next to him. Elliot took a deep breath and looked towards the ceiling. Here he was, sitting on his bed, about to do something that he hadn't done in quite sometime. Looking down at the page once more, he studied its contents before pulling up the objects into a comfortable position. Pausing for a split second to make sure that he was alone, he started. A smile found its way onto his face again as he listened to the sound his violin made.

* * *

**DID I GET YA? I GOT YA DIDN'T I? YEAH, I GOT YA.**


	3. Chapter 3

**JUST WANTED TO SAY A HUGE THANK YOU TO 'shadow74236915' FOR MOTIVATING ME TO CONTINUE THIS. I DOUBT THIS CHAPTER WOULD BE HERE IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU.**

* * *

Looking at the rain pour onto his window, Elliot sighed heavily as he thought of everything he could have done today. Groaning, he repositioned himself on his seat before continuing to look at the rain. Thunder growled in the distance and the rain grew heavier after a few moments. Muttering a curse, Elliot got up from his seat and paced the room slowly. Groaning in frustration, he opened his bedroom door and proceeded to the kitchen. He stopped half way down the hallway however, when he heard whispers. Carefully listening, he slowly sneaked his way to the end of the hallway. Peaking around the corner carefully, he noticed his father had the front door opened and was currently talking with someone. Elliot couldn't see the person at the door all too well, but it sounded more like a woman's voice. Another growl of thunder pierced the quiet room, making Elliot jump slightly and making his father look at the roof before turning his attention towards the visitor at the door. He heard a few small laughs, but it was enough to confirm his results. His father was talking to one of the local hookers that he saw on the street from time to time. No doubt the same one that had been hired a few times before. Letting out a disgusted sigh, he decided to head back to his room as he had lost his appetite. Shutting the door quietly so that his father wouldn't notice, he walked over to his chair and sat down again. Counting the minutes in his head, Elliot only got to five until he heard the ranting going on a few rooms away. no matter how much thunder was going on, it wouldn't be enough to drown out the fucking that was happening in his home.

Elliot could hear the heavy panting and the hums that where coming from up the hall. Trying his best to block it out, he groaned in frustration when his efforts were in vain. With his last hope in drowning out the sounds, Elliot walked over to his bed and flopped down onto it. Grabbing his pillow, he muffled a scream into it before flipping over to face the roof, an end of the pillow covering each of his ears. Closing his eyes, it wasn't long until he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Being roughly shaken, it was only a matter of seconds before Elliot jumped into a sitting position, ready to defend himself from his attacker. Looking up in his darkened room, the figure spoke.

"Get the usual." The was all it said before leaving the room.

It took a few seconds before Elliot realised who the figure was and what it had meant. Looking down at the object that had been thrown onto his bed before his father had left, Elliot noticed that it was a small, zip up lunch bag with a good amount of money in it. Looking towards the window, he heard the rain still pouring outside. Heavier than what it had been before he fell asleep. Groaning, he got up and quickly slipped his shoes and socks on. He picked up the closest jacket that he could find in hopes of keeping some warmth while he walked in the rain. Opening his door, Elliot could hear the TV that was coming from he living room. He walked slower than usual in hopes that his father changed his mind about wanting his 'usual pickup'. It never worked, but it always gave him something to get his hopes up. Walking through the kitchen and to the front door, Elliot heard his father speak again.

"And don't even think about stealing the change!" His father almost shouted.

"Can I at least have an umbrella?" Elliot asked, turning towards his father that was sitting on the couch.

No reply. Not even the slightest of movements from his father. Sighing, he unlocked the front door and walked out, letting it close by itself. Walking down the stairs was most likely the most dangerous part of his 'drug runs'. People charging at him with knives? Easy. Guns being shot his way? Not a problem. Walking down these stairs in almost complete darkness? The bane of his existence. Each step was a guess into the unknown. One mistake and he'd end up in hospital for sure. It was almost like playing a sick, twisted game where his life was on the line. Thankfully however, he managed to make it down the four flights of stairs without tripping to his doom. Walking towards the glass doors in the poorly lit entrance, Elliot froze at stared at the rain. Had it gotten...Heavier? Was he in the middle of a damn Hurricane for god's sake? Muttering a curse, he was about to open the doors when he heard footsteps coming from the flight of stairs.

"Elliot? Was is that you?" A soft, woman voice called.

"Mrs Buckeldairy?" Elliot called, spotting the elderly women slowly make her way down the stairs with a flashlight in hand. He quickly rushed over to help her down the rest of the stairs.

"Oh, thank you dear." She replied, taking Elliot's hand. "I heard someone walking down the stairs and thought it might have been you." She said, finding her footing on the firm ground.

"Yeah, just me. You really didn't have to come down just to see me though." Elliot replied, feeling slightly guilty.

"Oh non-sense dear, we can't have you going out in weather like this!" She said cheerfully, giving Elliot a small smile.

"I wish I didn't have to, Mrs Buckeldairy." Elliot huffed, returning the smile.

Mrs Buckeldairy's face grew with concern. "If only." She said. Looking at the floor for a few moments. "I know that your father has been through quite a bit after what happened." She sighed, looking to meet Elliot's gazing with sad eyes.

Elliot didn't have to ask what she meant. "I know." Was all he could manage to say.

"But to take it out on you? Only a monster would do that." She continued, slightly annoyed.

"N-no! He doesn't! Really!" Elliot panicked, trying to cover the truth. He felt a small hand on top of his shoulder and was met with soft, gray eyes.

"It's not a secret Elliot. This whole apartment block knows. The closest ones hear the whole ordeal." She replied, sighing sadly.

The room remained silent for quite some time. Managing to find his voice, Elliot did his best to ask. "So why hasn't anyone done anything about it?" A small tear forming on the side of his eye.

Mrs Buckeldairy wiped the tear away and placed her hand on Elliot's check. "I wish I could tell you everything, but not here, not now. Come to my apartment when you can and I'll tell you everything you want to know. Ok?" She whispered.

Elliot sniffed slightly and nodded.

"Good. Now. Here, take this. I think you'll need it more than I do." Mrs Buckeldairy said, handing the object over to Elliot.

Accepting the object, Elliot noticed that it was an umbrella. It was a bit too big for him, but he wasn't about to complain. "Thank you Mrs Buckeldairy. I owe you one." He said, giving her a small smile.

"It's the least I can do, dear." She replied. "If you ever need a place to sleep, you're always welcomed at my apartment." Mrs Buckledariy said.

"Thank you. For everything." Elliot replied, wiping away the last, small tear and smiling lightly. He watched her return the smile and slowly make her way up the stairs. With a small smile still on his face, he looked down at the umbrella. He sighed happily when he realised that perhaps there were a small handful of people who wanted to help him after all. Looking out at the rain, he laughed at it as he now had something that could be used against it. "Try to get me now." He whispered to himself as he opened the door and the umbrella.

Knocking on the door for a third time, Elliot tapped his foot in annoyance as he waited for it to open. He was about to knock again when it swung open, a slightly annoyed person standing on the other side.

"What?" He huffed. Looking Elliot up and down.

"The usual." Was all Elliot said.

"Oh, right sorry." The man said, stepping to one side.

Walking into the warm house, Elliot turned back towards the front door and shook off the remaining rain that was on the umbrella. Closing it, he stuffed it into the umbrella holder where a few others were sitting.

"It isn't like you to come around so late, Elliot." The man said, leading Elliot to the living room and offering him a seat.

"I know, sorry about that." Elliot replied, taking the offer to sit down. He watched the man close the curtains that were in the living room. The stairs were a nervous journey by themselves, but this took the cake. Almost everything could go wrong and Elliot would be a huge part to blame.

"So..." The man said, sitting down on the other side of the couch from Elliot, holding a box in front of him. "Were you followed?"

"Not as far as I know." Elliot groaned in annoyance, knowing the next few questions that were about to be asked as part of the routine.

"Who are you?" Steve asked, rasing his eyebrow.

"Elliot. I live on Wallace Crescent in apartment 57. Age 21 and 11 months, my hobby is playing on the violin. Code 2378." Elliot said, answering all the questions that he was going to be asked.

"Haha! See the cops will never know the code part! That's why I throw it in there!" Steve cheered, opening the box.

"Which is why you also change it every year?" Elliot questioned.

"Exactly!" Steve said, pulling out a few packages. "So, how much have you got on ya?" Steve asked.

Elliot pulled out the neatly packed bag from his pocket. Handing it to Steve, he waited till he counted it all out. "Have I got enough for the usual?" Elliot asked. He watched as Steve frowned and shook his head.

"You're a hundred short." Steve huffed, looking puzzled towards Elliot.

"Oh god damn it." Elliot mumbled quietly to himself. He knew he was going to get a beating for this. "Well how much can you give me?" He asked.

"Well..." Steve said, scratching his chin in thought. "I can give you just over half of what you normally get."

Taking a deep breath, Elliot let out a long sigh as he knew he was going to get the shit beaten out of him for this. "I guess it's better than nothing." He said, watching as Steve went to work with measuring the amount that Elliot had purchased.

After a good twenty minutes, Elliot was finely able to leave. With his jacket pockets almost stuffed with different powders and syringes, he quickly made his way home without trying to be seen. He took different routes and even climbed a few fences to lower the chances of getting caught. Arriving at his apartment block, Elliot shook off the remaining water on the umbrella. Closing it, he looked up at the darkened flight of stairs. Groaning at the task ahead of him, Elliot carefully climbed his way up the stairs. He didn't know what was a worse outcome. Tripping up the stairs and having the chances of a syringe stab itself into him, causing people to rush out only to find a young adult tripping balls or falling down the stairs and having a few broken bones. Both were quite bad in their own way. Arriving on the second floor, Elliot stopped and looked at the number of doors in the poorly lit hallway. Walking down until he reached the third door on the left, he lightly knocked a few times and waited. He could hear the shuffling of light footsteps and the unlocking of door. Slowly it opened and a head peered around the opening door.

"Oh, Elliot! What an unexpected surprise!" Mrs Buckeldairy said cheerfully.

"Hello Mrs Buckeldairy, I just wanted to return the umbrella you gave me." Elliot said, a smile finding its way to his face.

"Oh that's quite alright dear, we have another of the things to give almost everyone in the apartment block one!" She replied, standing front of the door ever so slightly.

"Who is it dear?" A voice called from in the apartment.

"It's Elliot! He's come to visit!" Mrs Buckeldairy called back.

"Oh Elliot! Please, do come in!" The voice called, it's owner shuffling around the corner.

"Mr Buckeldairy." Elliot replied, slightly surprised to see the elderly man give him a pat on the back. "It's been quite a while since I last saw you."

"Been too long if you ask me." Mr Buckeldairy said, laughing slightly. "Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?" He asked.

"I really shouldn't. Perhaps I'll be able to catch up with you tomorrow though." Elliot replied, handing the umbrella to Mrs Buckeldairy.

"Perhaps you'd like to come over for lunch tomorrow then?" Mr Buckeldairy said, a small glimmer of guilt flashing through his eyes.

Elliot shrugged it off and pretended like he knew nothing of the main topic tomorrow. "I'll do my best to be there." He said, waving them a goodbye as he walked down the hallway.

Climbing the last flight of stairs, Elliot fumbled around in his pockets to find his keys. Trying to avoid getting stabbed by the syringes or for any of the small packets to fall out of his pocket, he realised that he must of left them on his bedside table. Mumbling a curse, he quietly knocked on the door. He almost jumped out of his skin when the door seemed to open almost instantly.

"You're late." Was all that his father said, scolding as Elliot passed.

"I had to return an umbrella to Mrs Buckeldairy." Elliot replied, carefully extracting the items from his pocket and placing them on the nearest table. He watched as his father came over to inspect his 'prize'.

"Where's the rest of it?" His father asked, anger clearly growing in his voice.

"You were a hundred short. It was the best I could do." Elliot mumbled, bracing for an impact of some kind. An impact there was indeed. He felt his cheek heat up in sudden pain as his father slapped him across the face.

"LIES!" His father roared, pointing towards the various drugs that were scattered across the table. "You most of stole it and thought you could get away with it, huh?" Elliot's father asked.

"You were a hundred short. I didn't even open the fucken bag!" Elliot snapped, trying to convince his father of the truth.

"Listen to me you little shit, if you ever do this again, you won't live to see another day. Got that?" His father said, grabbing Elliot by the front of his jacket.

Elliot only nodded, knowing that he wasn't going to get through to his father. The iron grip was released of his father's hand was released, almost being thrown to the floor in the process. Managing to catch himself, Elliot didn't glance back at his father as he headed towards his room. He could feel the burning eyes on him until he was out of sight, taking a large breath as he rounded the corner. He didn't realise how tired he was until he reached his room. Finding nothing left to do, Elliot pulled his jacket, shoes and socks off and lied down onto his bed, letting his eyes close. It wasn't long until he could feel himself slipping off into a dreamless sleep.

Pain. That's all he could feel. Stinging, burning, red-hot pain. It shot up through his body faster than anything else he felt. His eyes shot open and he was gasping for breath as the pain became more intense. He tried to look around, find the source of it. His eyes grew wide when he saw the cause however. Barb wire was wrapped around tightly to his legs, arms and torso. The spikes digging themselves further into his body the more he moved, tearing at a bit of muscle with every twitch. He tried to be still, tried to stop the pain, but it was all in vain. Even his breathing made the wire sink deeper into his body. Elliot heard a laugh coming from behind him. He already knew this was his father's work. Coming into view, Elliot knew that his father was so high on drugs that no matter what he said to him, it wouldn't be heard. Grinding his teeth together, he knew he would have to bear this out like he had man times before.

"I ask one simple thing from you...And yet you have the need to fuck it all up, don't you?" His father said, pacing the room. "I try to be nice to you, you know? I let you live here, I let you eat my food, I even let you outside." Elliot's father continued, walking towards the bed. "I've giving you everything you've wanted. And what do you do? You throw it right back in my face." He said, leaning closer towards Elliot.

"You haven't giving me shit." Elliot snapped.

"Name one thing I haven't given you, hmm?" His father said, laughing lightly.

"A father." Was all Elliot was able to say before intense pain striked him in the shoulder. He screamed in agony as the blade of a knife was dug deeper into his shoulder.

"I wanted a happy life with my wife, but you took all that away from me." His father spat.

"You think I wanted to kill mum? You think I wanted all of this to happen?!" Elliot yelled, ignoring the pain from his shoulder.

"Don't you call her your mother ever again you ungreatful little-"

"POLICE! Open up!" The pounding on the front door grew louder with every knock.

Elliot saw his chance and screaming for help. "Help! He's trying to-" He was cut off by his father's fist. His cheek burned with pain, but he tried to ignore it and continue to scream for help.

"Stand clear of the door!" The police shouted.

Elliot saw his father glare at his in the purest of anger. "The next time I see you, you won't live to see another day." His father spat, the front door giving way to the police forcing their way through the door. The police rushed through the apartment and it didn't take long for them to find Elliot and his father in his room.

"Why don't you make it my birthday, huh? Would make the perfect gift." Elliot joked, knowing that his father would never get the chance ever again. He watched as his father was tackled by three cops at the same time, pulling him to the ground. It was a scene that he wouldn't forget in a long time. After his father had been pulled away in cuffs, Elliot heard the police shouting. Mainly calling for a paramedic and swears as the saw the condition he was in.

It took a full hour before the knife and barbed wire was slowly and very painfully removed. He was given a number of drugs that were meant to reduce the pain through the process, but they didn't seem to work all too well. Being lifted from his bed and onto an awaiting mobile hospital bed, his eyes begun to grow heavy. He didn't realise how much blood he had lost until he looked back at his bed. Stopping just outside of his apartment, he heard a voice calling his name. It wasn't until the owner's face popped into his vision did he realise that it was Mr and Mrs Buckeldairy. Their eyes were wide with fear and concern and they saw the state he was in. He could hear their voices, but the words were becoming mumbled and hard to hear. His vision begun to darken and he saw a police officer gently push them out of the way. Looking around, he saw a few people from his level looking at the ordeal, some gasping in horror when they finally saw Elliot. Their faces begun to fade ever so slowly however as he felt himself slipping. He took one last look at the crowd of people gathered in the hallway and fixed his vision on one figure leaning on one of the walls near the back of the crowd.

The figure fixed his attention towards Elliot, his deep blue eyes seeming almost unnatural. His body seemed to have a mind of its own as he stretched his arm up towards the figure, almost begging him to come over. The last of his vision faded to black, his arm falling to his side as he whispered his name. "Lawrence."


	4. Chapter 4

**THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPPOSE TO BE A LOT LONGER, BUT I THINK THAT THIS ONE WAS LONG ENOUGH ON ITS OWN. THIS ONE WAS ALSO SUPPOSE TO BE UPLOADED AGES AGO, BUT MY INTERNET WAS CUT, SO I COULD ONLY UPLOAD IT JUST NOW. ENJOY!**

"Elliot."

His name was mumbled.

"Elliot."

The voice called again, becoming a bit more clear.

"Elliot, wake up."

Trying his best to open his eyes, the voice started to sound familiar.

"That's it. Time to wake up."

The voice said once more. It almost sounded like...

"Lawrence?" Elliot whispered, opening his eyes. Blinding light poured through and he shielded his eyes with his hand.

"No, Elliot." The voice replied.

Blinking hard a few times, Elliot was pulled up into a sitting position. Looking up at the owner of the voice, he became disappointed and somewhat annoyed that it wasn't Lawrence standing in front of his bed.

"My name's Jerry. I'm your doctor. Now tell me Elliot, what do you remember?" Jerry asked.

"What do you want? My life story or what?" Elliot grunted in annoyance.

He saw Jerry sigh before he replied. "What was the last thing you remember?" He asked.

"I woke up in my bed, tied to it with barbed wire and my dad going ape shit. Anymore questions?" Elliot replied, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes.

"No, that will be enough." The doctor said, flipping through the papers on his clipboard. "Do you feel any pain or sickness?" Jerry asked.

"Only a bit of numbness..." Elliot replied, taking a few moments to look up and down at the bandages on his body.

"Medicine hasn't worn of completely then. Give it a few hours and we'll give you more once the rest has worn off." Jerry mumbled, writing the details down. "You have a few visitors in the lobby. Do you wish for me to send them up?" He asked.

"Who?" Elliot quickly replied.

"Mr and Mrs Buckeldairy if I recall correctly." Jerry said.

"Anyone else?" Elliot asked. Feeling disappointed once again.

"I'm afraid that's all for now."

Sighing, Elliot nodded towards the doctor. As the doctor left, Elliot looked out the window at the warm, summer day. It was quite awhile before the doors opened suddenly, giving Elliot quite the fright. He saw Mr and Mrs Buckledairy enter the room.

"Oh Elliot, I'm so sorry!" Mrs Buckledairy said, gently hugging Elliot.

"But you didn't do anything wrong!" Elliot quickly replied, returning the hug the best he could.

"I should have done something sooner! I knew I should have let you sleep at our apartment that night!" She said, almost in tears.

"None of this was your fault, Mrs Buckledairy." Elliot replied, trying his best to calm her down.

After a few moments of calming her nerves, she looked up at Elliot. "I'm sorry, but we haven't got much time now. I've dreaded this moment, but it has to be said now." Mrs Buckeldairy said, grabbing hold of Elliot's hand. "Your father was never the man he is now. I first met him when he first moved into the apartment block. He always went out of his way to make sure everyone was happy and safe. I guess that's why he choose to be a police officer." She started.

"My dad was a police officer?" Elliot asked.

"Yes. I would often hear him run down the stairs as he got called in for an emergency." She laughed sadly. "Anyway, after a few years he met a wonderful young woman, who was your mother."

"I still remember when he came knocking on the door to ask for advice." Mr Buckeldairy said, laughing lightly.

"Oh yes! I remember that too dear!" Mrs Buckeldairy threw in, laughing lightly as well. "As I was saying though, after a few years of being together, your father finally asked your mother to marry him. Everything seemed to be going wonderful for them! After quite some time of being married, they both decided to start a family." Pausing, Mrs Buckledairy looked down at her hands.

"It's ok, you can take a break if you want." Elliot said.

"No, I need to finish it before we get kicked out." She laughed. "As you know, something went wrong with the birth. Sadly, your mother died after giving birth to you. However, it's the fact that your father couldn't be there with her in her last hours is the reason he has the...need to lash out at someone or something." Taking a deep breath, she paused again.

"Why wasn't he there?" Elliot asked.

"The birth was four hours early. Your father was finishing up paper work, but no one called him to tell him that the birth was due early. It wasn't until after he got to the hospital two hours later that someone told him the news." Mr Buckeldairy replied.

"However, it was already too late." Elliot whispered to himself.

Mr Buckledairy nodded.

"But that wasn't my fault! Surely he can't take that part out on me!" Elliot said, feeling confused and angry. He watched has Mr and Mrs Buckledairy looked at each other. "What?" He asked.

"There's something else you should know about your father, Elliot." Mrs Buckledairy said. "Your father is...well, a murder." She whispered.

Losing his voice, Elliot could only watch the two and the story continued.

"In your early years, your father became...unstable. Over the course of seven years, your father managed to kill around five people in the apartment block. We believe that the cause was the fact he never got a phone call when the birth was early, so perhaps those poor souls that were at the hospital that night just happened to be one of the doctors or someone who looks similar."

"So why didn't he get caught?" Elliot asked, feeling sweat starting to form on his brow.

"Lying and destroying the evidence was something he had managed to master one way or another. I have no doubt that your father will manage to find his way out of this court case too." Mr Buckeldairy said, looking sadly at Elliot.

"He was caught red-handed though! Surely he'll be framed for this!" Elliot said, starting to panic slightly.

"I was at one of the court cases when he was a suspect on one of the murders that happened in the apartment block. I was sure that the judge had been paid to let it slide." Mr Buckledairy replied. "I have no doubt that he would have found someone to pay off the judge for this up coming case as well." He finished.

"Oh this can not be happening..." Elliot muttered to himself, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "So why did he keep me alive?" He asked.

"I suppose when he realised that if he played his cards right, he would always have someone to take his anger out on." Mrs Buckledairy replied.

"And he did." Elliot replied flatly. The room as silent for a few minutes before he found his voice again. "So why didn't anyone try to frame my dad? Try to put him away for good?"

Sighing, Mr Buckledairy looked up at Elliot, meeting his gaze. "Everyone became too scared to do anything after another person went missing, trying to stop your father when he heard the beatings every so often. The police found nothing that connected your father into the ordeal, so they thought the missing person just up and left."

Elliot laughed sadly to himself. "I suppose that's why no one wanted anything to do with me, huh?" He watched as the two nodded.

The speakers in the room crackled to life, making everyone in the room jump a little. "Visiting hours is up. Please head down to the lobby as soon as possible. Be sure to sign out in the visitor's log book to insure that you have exited the hospital safely. A nurse will come to collect you from your visiting areas in five minutes. If you do not remember your way to the lobby, please remain seated until then." The speakers went silent and the three looked at each other once more.

"I suppose we should head off. We don't want a nurse having to come look for us." Mrs Buckledairy said. The room was silent again for a few moments. "I'm sorry Elliot. I really wish there was something I could do." She said, hold Elliot's hand again.

"I'll be ok Mrs Buckledairy." He said sadly.

"I really wish I could find comfort on those words." She replied, hugging Elliot as she got up from her chair.

"Take care of yourself." Mr Buckledairy said, patting Elliot's back lightly.

"I have been for years." Elliot replied, laughing a little. He heard the two laugh as well. With a goodbye, the door shut and Elliot was alone. Sighing, he lied back down in his bed and looked out the window. The sky had gotten slightly darker, displaying the soft, bright orange, red and blue as the sun started to set. It didn't take long before he slipped into a light sleep.

It was early when Elliot woke up. The sun was just rising and the birds were chirping loudly. Moving his arm to remove the rest of the sleep in his eyes, he gasped as pain ran up and down his arm and chest. Deciding to sit still until a doctor came, Elliot tried to entertain himself with his thoughts. Some topics were quickly solved and others he just gave up with how boring they became. Every so often he would try to move, only to lie back down when he could only make it so far. He was about to give up on his thoughts and try to get up to investigate around his room, when the door suddenly opened.

"Good morning." A nurse said, walking into the room with a tray of food.

Looking at the tray in awe, Elliot hadn't realised how hungry he was. He watched as the nurse placed it down on the bedside table before walking around to the other side of the bed. Ignoring the nurse, Elliot tried to grab hold of the tray that was just out of reach. His bed begun to move just before he could grab it however. He eventually stopped when he was almost completely in a sitting position.

"Hungry are we?" The nurse said, watching as Elliot tried to reach for the food again.

Finally, the nurse handed Elliot the tray and all his attention was focused on the food. He didn't notice the nurse stab a needle into his arm, whatever she had said about how his doctor would be here soon or when she left the room to take care of other people. It wasn't till he was finished did he look up and notice that the nurse was gone. Looking down at the now empty tray, Elliot looked around for a place to put it that wasn't on his bed. The bedside table was too far away and the floor would only work if he was to drop it completely. Sighing, he did his bed to push it down as far his bed as he could. Managing to get it a fair way down, Elliot sat in wait for the next events of the day to unfold.

It took an hour before the door opened again. It was Jerry.

"How are you feeling Elliot?" He said, still looking at the paper on his clipboard.

"A bit sore this morning." Elliot replied, rolling his eyes.

"I see the wounds haven't opened up, good." He said, unwrapping the main bandage on Elliot's shoulder.

"When do I get to leave?" Elliot huffed, watching the unwrapping of his shoulder.

"It depends. If you keep healing like this, perhaps two or three days." Jerry mumbled, finishing the unwrapping. "Doesn't look too bad. We might be able to remove those stitches soon."

The room was silent for a few moments as the doctor finished examining the wound on Elliot's shoulder, wrapping it up firmly.

"Do I have any visitors?" Elliot said, not being able to stand the silence any longer.

"Not as far as I know." Jerry replied. "I'll have a nurse notify you when someone comes in." With that, he picked up his clip board sitting on the bed side table and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

A little dazed at how Jerry had walked out of the room without another word, Elliot mumbled a curse and relaxed back onto his bed. Instantly becoming bored, Elliot looked around the room for something to do. Finding nothing to do except watching a fly try to be free of the room via the window, Elliot couldn't help but feel somewhat in the same position as the fly. He wasn't sure how long he had looked at the fly's failed attempts of freedom, but it sure as hell was more entertaining than looking at anything else in his room. His entertainment ended however when the fly suddenly dropped dead in flight. Looking at the corpse on the floor in confusion, Elliot was snapped out of his thoughts when the door to his room suddenly opened.

"Lawrence!" Elliot almost shouted, a little too overjoyed.

"Bloody hell, I think I might need a hearing aid after that." Lawrence laughed.

"Please! Get me out of here!" Elliot begged, trying his best to sit up on his own.

"Right to the point, hmm? I don't even get a hello?" Lawrence replied.

Finally managing to sit up, Elliot crossed his arms in annoyance. "Oh come on! You seemed to help me when you first showed up in my apartment! Why won't you help me now?"

"I can't exactly just heal you up in a place like this." Lawrence huffed.

"Why not?" Elliot replied.

"What are you meant to say when your doctor comes back to find you completely healed in a matter of hours? It's not exactly the best idea, Elliot." Lawrence said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What's going on here?"

Looking towards the door frame, a nurse walked in with a face of concern. Her face changed into slight anger when she walked towards Elliot.

"For the love of god, I thought something was actually wrong! Now stop talking to yourself before you get in trouble!" She said, picking up the tray from this morning's breakfast.

"I'm not talking to myself!" Elliot snapped.

"Seeing things as well? Oh boy, I'll make sure the doctor doubles your dose." She replied, trying her best to ignore the anger in Elliot's voice.

"Are you blind? Lawrence is right here!" He said, pointing to Lawrence's general direction. Only hearing her burst out in laughter, Elliot was about to give her a mouth full when she suddenly stopped. Pure shock filled her face, almost as if she was gasping for air under a sheet of ice. Looking towards Lawrence in confusion, he found Lawrence's full attention towards the nurse. He had just enough time to see the nurse's shocked face one last time before the door to his room slammed shut.

"What a rude bitch." Lawrence laughed.

Looking towards Lawrence, he was utterly confused at the events that had just unfolded. "Did you do that?" He asked.

"I may have." Lawrence replied, smiling widely.

"But wait, what about the whole 'she couldn't see you' crap? You were here the whole time!" Elliot questioned, scratching his cheek in confusion.

"I prefer to stay hidden most of the time." Lawrence replied.

The room was silent for a few moments. "So...Only I can see you?" Elliot said.

"I only make myself visible to those who I think should see me." Lawrence replied, shifting his position to face Elliot.

"So what, am I special or something?" Elliot huffed, crossing his arms.

"If that's how you wanna put it." Lawrence laughed.

Elliot huffed again, turning to look out the window as his cheeks grew warm from embarrassment. "So are you gonna help me or not?" Elliot said, not bothering to look at Lawrence.

"Only if you play me one song." Lawrence replied.

Confused, Elliot turned his gaze towards Lawrence. His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped a little. "Where the hell did you get this? I didn't see you walk in with it!" He asked as his violin and bow was placed into his awaiting hands.

"I have my ways." Lawrence said, digging into his pockets.

Checking to see if any damage had come to his prize possession, he felt a familiar warm spread across his body. Looking up from the violin, Elliot saw the soft, greyish mist slowly surround him, finding its way into his body. As the last of the mist disappeared, the pain did the same.

"Bloody hell, if the others find out about how nice I'm being right now..." Lawrence whispered to himself, not noticing Elliot had caught every word.

"What others?" Elliot asked. "Why don't you ever tell me who these people are?" He watched as Lawrence sighed, wiping his face with his hand.

"If you keep trusting me, you'll find out." He eventually replied.

"Why not now?" Elliot asked, slightly annoyed.

"I can't exactly tell you everything." Lawrence grunted.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Elliot replied.

The room was silent before Lawrence replied. "I could lose you." The room became silent again. After a minute, Lawrence looked up at the confused, and slightly embarrassed, Elliot. "I should go. I've been here for a bit too long as is." He said, standing up from the bed.

Slight panic filled Elliot. "Wait, what about that song I owed you?" He blurred out, not thinking it over. He suddenly regretted what he had said as he realised that no one had ever sat down and actually listened to him play. Having no choice as he watched Lawrence sit back down, he tried to hide his nervousness as he lifted the violin and bow into position. Giving it a quick test to make sure everything was in order, he took a deep breath and looked towards Lawrence. His attention was all on Elliot now. Exhaling his breath, he ran the bow over the strings in a slow pattern before running it back to the start in a different order. His fingers moved along the strings with a mind of their own, following a memorized pattern. His nerves started to calm and the song continued, almost forgetting that Lawrence was sitting less than a meter away. It wasn't till near the end of the song did a heavy weight hitting the bed did Elliot open his eyes. Looking down in confusion, Elliot wasn't sure what to make of the sleeping form that was Lawrence. Carefully placing the violin and bow on the bed next to him, Elliot shook Lawrence's shoulder lightly. "Lawrence?" He said. "Hey, Lawrence wake up." Shaking him a little more, he gave up and grabbed the pillow behind him. As carefully as he could Elliot gently lifted Lawrence's head high enough until the pillow could be slipped underneath him. Elliot couldn't help but feel slightly happy that Lawrence seemed to fall asleep with a smile on his face. Hopefully from Elliot playing. Noticing Lawrence's hat, Elliot picked it up and placed it on his head. It was a little big for him, causing it to slip down over his eyes every time Elliot looked down.

It was about an hour before Lawrence started to wake up. Looking around in a groggy state, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up. Yawning, he heard a light snore from beside him. Looking over to find Elliot fast asleep as well, he decided to take his leave. Standing up from the bed and stretching, he was about to gently take his hat from Elliot's head when he decided against it. Grabbing the pillow off of the bed and slipping it under Elliot, he sighed lightly.

"I really do hope you take up my offer, Elliot." Lawrence whispered, pulling the blanket up to keep Elliot warm. "I don't think I could find another possible soul linker like you." Without another word, he turned and walked towards the door. Taking a last look, he gently closed the door and walked down the hallway. He was late, but he wouldn't change a moment if he was to repeat today.


End file.
